Failed Possession Chapter-85

## Ch-85.

—

The moment the man revealed himself, Yuri, Haryeong, and Lacy moved.

Yuri took the lead.
Haryeong positioned herself slightly behind him.
And Lacy stood at the very rear.

To rush in recklessly would be madness. A high-ranking cleric who wielded Divine Authority was the equal of a high-tier martial artist or mage.

This was on a completely different level from the Blood Fiend Ghost whose Rank had fallen due to qi deviation, or the Old Withered Crone who had wandered at the Sixth Rank. From the moment they were trapped in this space, it was no different from stepping into a tiger’s jaws—but to thrash about inside its mouth before even being chewed was the same as screaming to be killed quickly.

[We need to stall for time.]

Lacy, having stepped back, conveyed her intent swiftly.

[Time for someone outside to break this space and force their way in, and…]

In truth, the former seemed unlikely. To commit such an act in the center of a great city meant he was confident it would not be breached from outside. If one hammered at it long enough, it might eventually give—but there was no reason to believe their opponent would grant them that much time.

[Time for me to reach the Sixth Rank.]

If they were to choose a path with any chance of survival, this was it. She had lingered at the Fifth Rank for years. She had to ascend to the Sixth. She had been attempting it ever since awakening from the dream and grasping the situation—but she still needed more time.

[Will reaching the Sixth Rank resolve this situation?]

Haryeong responded, her voice linked with theirs. Even a single Rank could mean a vast difference in ability—but that masked man was at least Seventh Rank. Even if Lacy reached the Sixth, the gap would still be immense.

[Yes.]

Lacy answered without hesitation.

It was not arrogance. She had scraped the bottom of every spell appropriate to her Rank. She knew exactly what she could and could not do.

[If I reach the Sixth Rank, I can receive Lady Orca’s support.]

At that answer, questions flared simultaneously in Yuri and Haryeong’s minds.

Receive Orca’s support?
Right now, Orca was far away at the Dercia Magic Tower in Lutran. What kind of support could she possibly provide?

[Understood.]

Though puzzled, Yuri did not ask further. Lacy reaching the Sixth Rank and receiving Orca’s support—at present, that was the most realistic method to break this situation.

“You’re all stiff as boards.”

The masked man chuckled.

“You were talking so boldly when I wasn’t here. What’s wrong? Now that I’m in front of you, too scared to even open your mouths?”

No answer came, but the man continued unbothered.

“Still, calling someone a mad saint to his face is a bit much, isn’t it? Ah, right. I should introduce myself. I know who you are—but you don’t know me.”

He raised a finger and pointed to the mask covering his face. From within the long-slit mouth of the mask, his lips curved upward in a crooked grin.

“I am ‘Agwi.’ Forgive me for not giving my real name—and for not being able to remove the mask.”

Yuri curled his lowered hand into a fist and glared at Agwi.

Agwi hunched his shoulders theatrically at that stare.

“I went to the trouble of speaking first, and you just glare at me. Well, fine. You’re about to die anyway, so I’ll forgive it. But how did you wake up?”

How?

That was, of course, what Agwi was curious about.

Through divine power accumulated over years, he had constructed a pseudo-sanctuary and was artificially generating a Rift. At the same time, empowered by miracles amplified within the sanctuary, he had invoked his Divine Authority—Spirit-Devouring Tree.

Without needing to subdue them directly, he had guided thousands into dreams.

Dreams painted by miracle. Ordinary humans would never realize they were dreaming—they would wander within and die. And even if, by some chance, they became aware within the dream, he crafted dreams so blissful they would not wish to awaken.

Instilling fear or pain was easy.

But granting happiness to those meant to be killed—that was exceedingly difficult.

A soul that died within happiness brimmed with power. Death was common and easy to give—but compared to those who died in agony, souls that perished within bliss were far more valuable.

That was why the Spirit-Devouring Tree granted happy dreams. It bestowed supreme bliss upon dying souls, fattening them plump with fulfillment—that was its true worth.

Even if they were Seventh Rank, he had taken pains to ensure they would not wake easily…

And yet three Fifth Rank brats had awakened.

—Kuuung…

A tremor from outside. Beneath the mask, Agwi’s expression twisted.

To be honest, this tremor was a *variable*.

The archbishop of the Alderan Earth Temple was absent, and the fortress’s magic was not specialized for siege. Thus, he had assumed that interference from outside during the Rift’s completion would be negligible—not urgent enough to warrant concern.

‘An attack with this kind of weight… either a Grand Mage or a Martial Zenith…’

According to his prior intelligence, no Grand Mage or Martial Zenith was visiting Alderan. Had reinforcements arrived from another city within these few hours? The nearest city required days of travel by horse.

Not impossible.

To surpass the Seventh Rank meant transcending humanity in some manner. Among such transcendent beings, there were those capable of compressing days of distance into mere hours—or minutes.

‘Or is it the hidden strength of the Maybeld family? Damn those prideful bastards.’

—Kuuung…

Another vibration shook the sanctuary.

There was no problem. It was true a variable had appeared outside—but not one sufficient to collapse the sanctuary.

Then what of inside?

“So you won’t answer?”

From within the torn slit of the mask, Agwi’s lips twitched open. His exposed teeth were not human—they were sharp and pointed like a beast’s.

“It’s fine if you don’t.”

Three Fifth Rank.

Agwi was a Saint of the Cult. He was arrogant—but not so arrogant as to claim himself the strongest among the Saints. Though grouped under the same title, the disparity in strength and standing among Saints was vast.

That did not mean Agwi was weak.

Three Fifth Rank? To him, they were no more than insects. Even while simultaneously maintaining the sanctuary, the Rift, and the Spirit-Devouring Tree, they were not variables worth noting.

“I have quite a deep connection with you three.”

His shoulders shook with a snickering laugh.

“Connection…?”

Muttering, Lacy stepped back further, tension evident in her face. Her cheeks were still swollen—but this was not the time to tend to them.

Agwi did not bother pointing it out. They were all going to die anyway—what did it matter if their cheeks or eyes were swollen?

He clicked his sharp teeth together and grinned.

“Orca Dercia—that devilish bitch—is she doing well?”

“…”

“I once suffered a setback because of her. Haven’t you heard?”

At the casually tossed question, Lacy’s face turned pale.

“So you were the ones who trapped Lady Orca in the past.”

“She was lucky. We were unlucky.”

His gleaming gaze shifted to Haryeong.

“Never thought we’d be interfered with by the Salho Sect Master there.”

“I have nothing to do with the Sect Master’s past.”

Already gripping daggers in both hands, Haryeong answered.

“Is that so? Doesn’t matter. Dark Flower—there’s more between you and me than just the Salho Sect.”

The smile at Agwi’s lips twisted. Surging emotion robbed him of his laughter.

“Thunder Cloud, Dark Flower—you wretched bastards. Because you ran wild in Panteleon, years of my labor were reduced to nothing!”

Agwi’s roar swallowed the tremors from outside.

“Thousands will die here today, and you will perish here as well—that is why! How dare you, how dare you ruin my work without knowing your place?!”

A massive killing intent crashed over them like a tidal wave.

Haryeong and Lacy staggered back, feeling as though their blood had turned to ice.

But Yuri did not retreat.

He too felt the killing intent raising every hair on his body—but within his chest burned a heat and flame greater than the cold breath of death that intent carried.

“You’re wrong.”

The lips that had been tightly sealed parted.

Staring at Agwi, Yuri spoke slowly.

“Wrong? What exactly is wrong?”

Agwi’s voice sharpened.

“You bastard. Are you saying that is wrong as a reason for me to kill you?”

“I am not Thunder Cloud. I am Cloud Dragon.”

At the answer, Agwi’s body stiffened.

Haryeong and Lacy, who had been frozen under the weight of killing intent, also stared at Yuri in momentary confusion.

“Is this bastard actually insane?”

Agwi spat in disbelief.

When he had first heard that the Panteleon parish had been destroyed, Yuri’s epithet had been Thunder Cloud. That was how Agwi remembered him. Later, the Sword Emperor had granted him the new epithet Cloud Dragon—but that was not something Agwi had bothered to care about.

“Is it truly necessary to kill us?”

Before Agwi could hurl another insult, Yuri spoke again. It was just as sudden as his earlier remark.

“What?”

“What if we were to say we wish to join the Cult of Chaos?”

Lacy and Haryeong could still only stare at Yuri in silence. Yuri, however, paid them no mind. He sharpened every sense and focused entirely on Agwi’s reaction.

“Join?”

“We’re young and overflowing with talent. I imagine the Cult of Chaos is lacking in youthful prodigies.”

Agwi’s brow twitched.

The world called the Cult of Chaos heretics, a cult of an evil god. Agwi himself neither denied nor raged against such judgments. As a possessor, he agreed that the God of Chaos was an evil deity.

So what if it was an evil god? Serve it, and it grants power. No complicated doctrine—run wild as you please, and that is proof of faith.

He had crossed into this world as the price for pouring his time into that trash game. He had accumulated power, raised his Rank, and become a Saint. To Agwi, this world was paradise.

Yet regardless of his satisfaction, it was true that the Cult lacked young talent.

Because they worshipped the God of Chaos, they were branded heretics everywhere—hunted. Recently, even the Demonic Cult had declared war on them.

In reality, no one who could live a normal life would willingly seek entry into the Cult of Chaos.

“Begging for your life?”

Those unable to live normal lives. Agwi himself qualified—and so did the three before him. Being trapped within this pseudo-sanctuary, standing face-to-face with him, already marked the end of their lives.

“Yes, you don’t want to die. Of course not. But what to do? I want to kill you.”

“Would you reconsider? I can work like a dog.”

Haryeong, who had been listening silently, finally spoke.

—Kuuung…

The tremor shook the world again. Agwi’s lips twitched.

“You little bastards. Are you trying to stall?”

The instant those words left his mouth, Yuri moved.

Join the Cult of Chaos? He had never once considered it.

To enter the Cult out of fear, out of a desire to avoid death, would betray everything that had built the Yuri of today.

It would betray Lorellia, who had given him flame.
It would betray Elena, who smiled as though about to cry.
It would betray his past self, who had resolved to kill the evil god.
It would betray the self who had awakened minutes ago, determined to burn and burn until he became fire.

So Yuri charged at Agwi.

From the very first step, he committed his full strength.

From his wide-open dantian, the internal energy of the Evil-Quelling Heavenly Principle Technique poured forth without reservation, racing through his meridians. The lightning qi of the Violet Lightning Flash Art accelerated his body further. The fastest strike among his martial arts—Violet Lightning Single Flash—shot toward Agwi.

He did not expect it to be a surprise attack. No matter how fast he was, the difference in Rank was too great. Even if Yuri poured everything into speed, it would appear slow in Agwi’s eyes.

Jjeeeong!

And so it was blocked.

Yuri stared forward, face hardened. Violet Lightning Single Flash was halted by Agwi’s hand. Crimson, flame-like aura surged violently—but it failed to burn even the sleeve of Agwi’s robe.

“How adorable.”

Agwi sneered.

Crack. Crack-crack…

Such sounds echoed from within the wide sleeve of his robe. Then change began.

The hand blocking Yuri’s fist began to grow.

Not only the hand—his entire body swelled. His frame expanded. Gray fur sprouted along his forearms, and from his thickened fingers extended claws sharp as blades.

‘This bastard.’

Yuri pulled back his fist, expression rigid.

When the figure had first formed hand seals atop the exposition hall ceiling, Yuri had glimpsed his arm beneath the fallen sleeve. It had been well-muscled.

Meaning he was not merely a mage.

In the game Seronis, the only being called a “god” was the hidden boss—the God of Chaos. There was no such thing as divine power or miracles.

The same applied to jobs. If you built your character around magic skills, you were a mage. Otherwise, depending on weapon choice and combat skills, you became a swordsman, archer, martial artist, and so on.

Those job titles were chosen by the player.

‘Melee beast mage?’

Or what they used to call—

Druid.

A build once popular in the community. Transform your character into a monster through transformation magic, reinforce your stats with buffs, and learn close-range spells.

Popular—but closer to entertainment than optimal.

Melee mages had the advantage of stronger damage and shorter cooldowns compared to orthodox mages, but against a properly raised pure mage, their performance was awkward.

Investing in melee-exclusive stats instead of magic stats defeated the point.

‘If you’re going to do that, why not just raise a warrior?’

To compensate for their ambiguity, transformation magic was added to the build—but even then, no matter how much you buffed yourself after turning into a monster, you could not rival the raw stats of late-game bosses.

However, once a penalty skill was added, the melee beast mage gained the potential to reach first place in the Hall.

Bare-Handed.

The penalty skill that Lee Soo-hyeok’s Pad-lip Immune had mained. Bare-Handed granted bonus stats for every equipment slot sealed.

‘Don’t tell me…’

It had been Lee Soo-hyeok who first popularized the Bare-Handed melee beast mage build. Of course, one could not immediately connect everything to the game simply because someone transformed—but it had been said that among the Saints of the Order were several possessors.

Agwi’s body swelled to nearly three meters in height. Yet his robe did not tear—it expanded with him. His mask did not shatter or fall; it enlarged to fit his new size. From the long-slit mouth of the mask protruded an elongated snout.

A beast clad in robe and mask.

From beneath the fallen hood, gray mane-like fur fluttered. Agwi planted his now bestial four limbs upon the ground and bared his fangs.

[Good heavens… a druid?!]

Lacy’s scream, impossible to voice aloud, rang in Yuri’s mind. Certainly, Agwi was not the only one in this world who fought through bodily transformation—but among Saints rumored to include possessors, seeing one transform into a beast inevitably brought the word *druid* to mind.

[Are you not ascending to the Sixth Rank?]

[I-I’m concentrating.]

Yuri answered while raising his aura. Lacy hurriedly suppressed her excitement. Transforming did not automatically make one a druid.

—Kwaaaaarrr!

The darkness swirling around Agwi moved, becoming a razor-edged storm that coiled around his body.

[K–Blade Storm Druid!]

She had barely calmed down, only to grow excited again.

One of the druid builds—the Blade Storm Druid. A synergy build focusing on the close-range hybrid magic Blade Shield and Blessing of the Storm, relying on raw stats while brawling in melee to deal damage.

“…”

Yuri no longer bothered to restrain Lacy’s agitation.

He felt he could finally understand, at least vaguely, why those cultist bastards revered Pad-lip Immune as an apostle.

After all, it had been Lee Soo-hyeok who had uploaded the strategy guide detailing the very build of this so-called Saint, Agwi.